Story Title: The Debt

Story Summary: When you play with the devil, prepare to pay the price.

Genre: Romance

Rating: M

Pairing: E/B

Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong solely to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Bella tapped her foot impatiently against the glossy marble floor as she examined the interior of the room. The decor lacked warmth in its sterile modernity. Four steel, tubular chairs and a desk comprised the entirety of the furniture. No artwork adorned the stark white walls.

A fortyish blonde sat at the desk, entranced by her monitor. When her phone buzzed, she quickly answered, murmuring a response. Standing, she glanced at Bella with a sympathetic smile. "Mr. Cullen will see you now."

Putting on her game face, Bella stood and entered his office. The receptionist closed the door, and Bella discovered Edward sitting behind a large, wooden desk, studying a set of documents.

While she waited for his acknowledgment, she took in his appearance. He cut an imposing figure even with his tie loosened and his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows. Reddish-brown hair framed chiseled cheekbones, a straight nose, and a square jaw. Everything about him exuded confidence and strength—it was no wonder he was the most dangerous man in Chicago.

Too busy taking in his features, she didn't notice him staring at her. "You're late." His words sent a shiver down her spine. His expression, as he studied her, was cold and calculating—the same one he used with anybody who dared to insult him. "I don't like to be kept waiting."

Rubbing his fingers together, his gaze raked over her, from her hair to her breasts and over her long, lean legs. As he imagined them wrapped around his hips, she huffed then looked down to inspect her nails. "It's only fifteen past six. Besides, traffic's a bitch on Fridays."

Knitting his brows together, Edward twisted the ring on his right hand. It was the ring his father gave to him the day he took over the family business—the same piece of jewelry worn by the four generations who ruled before him. Men like Edward Cullen didn't survive in the world by ignoring disrespect. Standing, he advanced in her direction like a lion going in for the kill. Cradling her chin in his hand, he lifted her head. "Watch your mouth. You're already walking on thin ice. Don't make it worse by talking like some common whore."

Fire flashed in her eyes as she gripped his wrist. "But isn't that why I'm here? To service you like some common whore?"

Releasing her face, he chuckled. "No, kitten, you're here to pay a debt." He ran a finger along her plump, bottom lip. "You chose to play with the devil. Don't fault me because it's time to pay the price."

Bella shuddered at his statement. She was pressing his buttons. It was a dangerous game to play with the head of the most powerful mafia, but she couldn't resist. Scowling, she spat, "Bastard. I might owe you, but you don't own me. I'm not like the rest of your minions." She crossed her arms against her chest. "Can we get this over with? I have a dinner reservation at nine."

He smirked at her defiant attitude. He had expected her to test his boundaries, and he wasn't disappointed. "This will be over when I say so. I have plans for you this evening." Leaning in, he whispered, "As a matter of fact, I've thought of little else all day."

Even though her core twisted with want, she continued to protest. "Fuck you, Cullen!"

He laughed. "Oh, you'll be fucking me all right." Locking the door, he licked his lips. It was true—his entire day had been spent imagining all the different ways he wanted to devour her. Removing his belt, he unbuttoned his pants. "I think I'll begin by teaching that pretty little mouth of yours about respect. Get on your knees, Isabella."

She frowned, defying his command.

"Now." His tone left no room for argument. "Don't make me repeat myself."

When she kneeled before him, he lowered his pants. Stroking himself, he said, "Wrap your lips around my cock." He watched as her slim fingers closed over his hard flesh, pumping it in agonizingly slow strokes. "Fuck," he hissed. The feel of her skin against his was as close to heaven as a sinner like him would ever experience. As she circled the head with her tongue, her eyes locked with his. Her nostrils flared, and he knew she was still toying with him. Impatient, he buried his large hand in her hair, grabbing the back of her head. "Quit teasing. Open your mouth wide and keep it open." Moaning, he slid all the way to the back of her throat. When her teeth scraped against his sensitive flesh, he closed his eyes and sighed. If she wanted it rough, two could play that game. Flexing his hips, he thrust faster and harder, fucking her mouth without mercy. At his frenzied pace, he struggled to hold on—the need to release built in him, rising like a crescendo. "Shit, I'm coming." He stiffened and convulsed. His body jerked hard, every muscle tight as he poured himself into her.

Tasting his warm, salty seed against her tongue, Bella continued sucking until he finished. Standing, she squared her shoulders and wiped her lips with her palm. When she smoothed her dress and started toward the door, his fingers curled around her arm. "Not so fast. Did I give you permission to leave?"

She eyed his crotch then arched a brow. "You got what you wanted. My debt is paid."

A smug expression overtook his features. "While I appreciate the blow job, I'm not quite through with you yet."

"Oh, I'd say you more than appreciated it." She placed her hands on her hips.

He grinned at her anger. "My apologies. I meant no offense. Now, as for your debt—I'll determine when it's fulfilled."

Poking him in the chest, she said, "You're an asshole, Cullen."

"I've never said otherwise." He shrugged. " And if you don't stop using that foul language, I'll fill your filthy mouth with my cock again. Is that what you want?"

Instead of answering, she turned her head and remained quiet.

"I'll take that as a no." In one swift move, he threw her over his shoulder, then he laid her down on top of his desk. "Good. Because I've been dying to taste you since you walked through the door."

Her cheeks flushed as wetness pooled between her legs.

Slowly inching up her dress, he kissed the inside of her thighs. "I wonder if you taste as sweet as you smell."

She quivered at his words.

Wrapping his hand around her lace panties, he gave one forcible tug, ripping them from her body. "You're so wet for me, Isabella. You try to pretend that you're unaffected, but I can see how much you want me." Sliding his fingers through her folds, he said, "You're glistening."

She bit her lip to prevent herself from moaning. But when he began pumping his fingers in and out of her core, she writhed against his hand as her head tipped back in pleasure. As he stroked her deep and slow, she began to rock back and forth, creating a faster pace. "That's it, kitten. Fuck my fingers."

She gasped when Edward's lips surrounded her clit. Sucking. Teasing. His mouth never stopped working her wet center, setting off a blinding heat inside her. When her thighs began to shake, he gripped her hips, holding her in place as his tongue continued its assault on her pussy, swirling against her nub until she arched off the desk and fell to pieces.

Bella's pulse thundered in her ears as she attempted to catch her breath. Before she realized what was happening, Edward was removing her dress. "I can't wait any longer." His teeth grazed her neck as his strong hands curved over her ribs, covering her breasts. Unable to resist him any longer, she twisted her hands in his hair and pulled his lips to hers. Their mouths crashed together in battle—their kisses rough and deep, full of wild need.

Pulling away, he stroked his cock. As he held her with his eyes, he slammed into her, groaning as her body welcomed his. Her nails sunk into his shoulders as she lifted her hips to meet his brutal thrusts. She moaned as they moved as one. Hearts beating. Bodies melding.

She was deliciously tight as she met his pounding rhythm beat for beat. Desperate to get closer, he flipped her over, thrusting into her from behind. Clasping her hips hard against him, he plowed into her, driving deep. "Fuck. I'm not going to last." Reaching between her legs, he teased the swollen nub of her clit.

Her entire body vibrated in response as he worked her into a frenzy, until finally, her senses shattered as she felt herself spasm around him.

Pumping into her one last time, he exploded, grunting from the pure animal satisfaction of his release.

Still connected, they collapsed in a tangle of limbs. Panting as he gathered his wits, he moved to stand, pulling up his pants. Lifting her into his arms, he cradled her to his chest, carrying her into his private bathroom. He set her on the edge of the counter and got a washcloth. After wetting it with warm water, he gently cleaned her—once again, placing a tender kiss on the inside of each of her thighs.

When he finished, he cupped her cheek, resting his forehead against hers. With a sigh of contentment, he kissed her tenderly. He would never get enough of this woman. He might not own her, but she owned him. Heart and soul.

"Well?" She ran her fingers through his hair.

Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss against her wrist. "Well, what?"

"Am I released from my debt?"

He nodded. "Paid in full. But make no mistake—this won't be the last you see of me."

She hopped down from the counter and looked into the mirror. "I should hope not—as I said before, I have dinner reservations at nine, and I expect my husband to join me."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. "I think that can be arranged. What about the kids?"

"They're at your parents' place. Esme wants them to stay for the entire weekend."

He nuzzled her neck. "The entire weekend? But how will we keep ourselves entertained?"

"I think we'll manage." She turned to face him. "And I do have one particular activity in mind."

"Oh? And what's that, Mrs. Cullen?"

Her face split into a wide grin. "A rematch."

Edward laughed. "Paintball? Again?" His wife had a fierce competitive streak—she could turn anything into a challenge. When their first child was born, she timed how long it took each of them to change his diaper. She thought she had the advantage, but she quickly learned Edward Cullen never lost. And he definitely had a leg up on her latest obsession. In fact, she didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of ever winning. He shook his head and scoffed. "After all this time, do you really think you're going to defeat me?"

She shrugged. "You never know. Stranger things have happened."

"Kitten, you must realize you're married to the deadliest shot in Chicago." He tilted his head in confusion. "Why do you always insist on making all of these losing bets?"

"Edward, the answer is simple." Leaning closer, she gently brushed her lips to his. "I like being in your debt."

The End